Free Red (Black #2) by T.l Smith

pulls away and opens the door. I can’t, my body is too slow, too broken right now, my energy has been drained to non-existent.
    Another shot, this time I don’t see her, she’s disappeared through the door. I reach under the bed, pulling out a black case. Opening it, I wonder why I even grabbed it, not wondering how I knew exactly where it was.
    It has two guns, a handgun, and a sniper rifle. I pull the rifle—this is something that feels like mine. It feels like the only thing I’ve touched that feels all mine. I know everything about it, without even seeing it clearly.
    Another shot, women start to scream.
    I use the walls to help me walk out, and when I enter the main room, I see a red couch with colored walls, so brightly covered in graffiti. This is the house she took me to before I fucked her against a dirty wall like a whore.
    I get to the window and look down, Red is a few meters away from Savannah. Savannah has a gun in her hand, waving it around like the careless bitch that she is. I hear Red’s calming voice, trying to placate her. It won’t work, because Savannah is a special kind of crazy.
    She sees me in the window and smiles brightly. Red follows her eyes and looks up at me the same time Savannah does. They aren’t too far apart, meters at best, but Red is blocking Savannah from the angle I aim at.
    “You think you can just leave?” She laughs, raises her gun to Red. Red looks back, Savannah isn’t watching her, her eyes are on me. “For this? For the junkie?”
    “What did you do to me, Savannah?”
    Her lips quirk up. “Having withdrawals, love?” Her shoulders rise in confidence. “Come with me and I can make it all better, baby.”
    “What was it, Savannah?”
    “It’s a memory suppressor, my love. One I gave to you when I slipped it into your dinner to help you fall asleep at night. You would have never known if you didn’t leave me.” Her eyes fall back to Red, she smiles at her. When she talks, she talks to me but constantly watches Red.
    “If you leave with me, we can forget about everything that’s happened, and I won’t hurt her.” She removes the safety from the gun, and Red begins to shake.
    I take aim—she doesn’t see me—and I shoot. She smiles brightly.

 
     

    The pain is so intense, it rips through my shoulder like a knife twisting back and forth. Savannah hums in amusement, her white teeth reminding me of the devil. She lowers her gun, looking up at Liam and blows him a kiss. She goes to raise the gun again, taking aim at my head, then as her smile turns sinister, her eyes roll backward. There’s a hole in between her eyes on her forehead. She drops to my feet. Not long after, I do the same, we both lay there coloring the green grass red.
    I hear footsteps, my body is on the verge of passing out. I can feel the blood as it pours from the wound, the pain taking hold. It hurts, and yes I’ve had worse. This, though, this is a pain that won’t stop twisting, a pain that my body wants to shut out by sleeping.
    I vaguely feel him, I smell him. I hear his struggle as he carries me up the stairs. He wouldn’t have any energy, he hasn’t eaten solid food for over a week.
    He places me in the bath, cuts my shirt open with a pocket knife, and I drift in and out of consciousness.
    “Bite,” he commands, placing something into my mouth. I can’t, I want to sleep because sleep takes the pain away.
    My own screams—ring in my ears. He’s digging into my shoulder for the bullet, his fingers inside my open wound. His free hand places the shirt into my mouth, trying to cut my screams but it doesn’t work. I hear when he removes the bullet, it dings when it hits the tiles, and I collapse a little more into the bath.
    He lifts me back up so he can reach my shoulder easily. This time, when he places something into my mouth he commands, “Bite.” I do, and pass out from that pain, as he stitches me up.

    He’s asleep next to me when I wake again. I watch his profile. He